


penny for your thoughts

by meowcosm



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Comfort Sex, Complicated Relationships, Contemplation, Cunnilingus, F/F, Oral Sex, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowcosm/pseuds/meowcosm
Summary: In lieu of half-hearted attempts at "relationship advice", Shamir offers to fill in the gap that the men in her life have been leaving- so long as she stops bringing them up during training.It's not something she ever expected to be taken up on.
Relationships: Manuela Casagranda/Shamir Nevrand
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16
Collections: kinktober 2020





	penny for your thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> is this a new tag? i have no clue honestly but i am happy to adopt it if so

In the midst of splitting Manuela open with her tongue, Shamir pauses to consider the taste that lays on it. 

It takes only a moment of consideration for her to decide that it’s hardly any different from the only other woman she’s ever done something like this for- an encounter of simple pleasure and little else, back when she had been young, still living in her homeland. But her moment of pause is enough to send Manuela whining, and pressing the soft flesh of her inner thighs closer around Shamir’s head. 

“You can’t just pause. It’s like singing- rhythm is important, you know.”

Shamir snorts, and doesn’t resume. 

“I know what I’m doing.” she mumbles into the tender kiss-marked skin. 

If she’s truthful with herself, she’s not sure she _does_. She knows she’s only done it once, with a level of success that she was never able to ascertain- the recipient of the act had vanished into the background when she left Dagda, along with almost all of her old life. But she’s doing it so she might hear Manuela complain _less_ , rather than more. 

“Keep doing it, please.” Manuela grumbles curtly. 

The _please_ on the end of her plea makes Shamir less tempted to go rough on her, lest she be unprepared. But she grants Manuela no clemency as she returns her tongue to the crook of her pleasure, sweeping up and down and sending little shockwaves through her spine each time her tongue wraps around Manuela’s tender clit. 

Manuela looks _different_ down there, compared to her other past experience. She’s more- tucked, and everything is deeper inside of her, enough so that truly reaching anything which can make her cry out seems much less effortless than Shamir had first predicted it would be. Doing so ends up muffling her, rendering her mouth useless in doing anything else but pleasing her partner. 

It’s not too bad, though, Shamir thinks. _She certainly does seem to enjoy this- enough that she’s not saying much of anything._

All of the words she might speak are replaced with little whimpers, gasps of pleasure and moans when Shamir hits just the right spot with the flat of her tongue. It doesn’t bother Shamir- everything she needs as a confirmation she’s doing her job right is coming from above. Even if Manuela hadn’t expected something like this being the “reward” Shamir had promised her at the beginning of the week (in exchange for her remaining mum about her numerous failed outings with various of Shamir’s male colleagues), the enthusiasm she’d shown upon Shamir ducking between her thighs and gently shifting the draping front of her dress to hang by the side of her thigh hardly seems to be dissipating. 

“S-Shamir, goddess, it’s been a while-!” Manuela gasps out the moment Shamir ceases with her impatient lapping, allowing her a moment’s worth of a break from the heat that’s swamping her. 

When Shamir draws back fully from the plush confines of Manuela’s inner thighs, it’s Manuela’s turn to look down at her companion, to marvel at the way everything from the dip of her upper lip to the bottom of her jaw is covered in her own fluid. 

“ _Fuck._ ” she gasps, unclenching her vice-like grip on the backrest of the upholstered loveseat she’d insisted their tryst took place on. “You are… quite a sight. I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”

Already licking the excess fluid off of her top lip, Shamir shrugs. 

“You’ve gotten very turned on.” she murmurs, matter-of-fact. Above her, Manuela blushes, and buries her head into her hands. 

“As I said- it has been a while since someone has shown me this sort of… attention. Without falling asleep in the midst of it.”

“Did that really happen?”

Manuela nods. “You’ll judge me for this, but it was the same man, twice. And on different occasions.”

“I can’t understand that. You, or him.” Shamir’s tone is blunt, objective. “I feel wide awake. Perhaps it’s because I promised you this.” 

“You never had to keep that promise, you know.” Manuela sighs. “I’ve been made aware that other people don’t care much for my accounts of failure. It’s just that I tend to forget.”

“If I reneged on my dues, I would not be here in the first place. You should just try and enjoy this.” 

With a sigh, Manuela leans back again, propping herself against the raised portion of the backrest. Shamir wedges herself once more inside the tight grip of Manuela’s thighs, her legs swung over her shoulders like a strange scarf. 

In a pile in the corner, a pair of pale orange underwear lies discarded, almost indistinguishable amongst the rest of the mess in Manuela’s private accommodation. 

Getting back into the rhythm doesn’t take Shamir very long. Manuela’s thighs still twitch and contract around her as she aims to go as deep inside with her tongue as she possibly can, her neat folds shifting around Shamir’s tongue as she reconfirms the places that made Manuela groan barely minutes earlier. From beneath Manuela, Shamir’s hands come to settle on her hips, wrapping around the latter portion of her waist. 

With her held in place, Shamir allows herself room to move experimentally, testing the limits of how precisely she can use her tongue to slip inside and play with Manuela’s tucked-away pleasure. Sometimes, the bridge of her nose brushes against Manuela’s clit- to her surprise, it throbs as usual, and Manuela moans as usual. Eventually, with Manuela’s grip tight once more on the wooden edges of the loveseat, Shamir comes close to bringing her entire face to Manuela’s tight and shaking pleasure, moving as if she’s lapping water from a leaking tap. 

When she finishes, her entire body shaking in some illusory wind, it’s not with any fanfare. Shamir keeps going until Manuela runs her hands through Shamir’s sex-mussed blackberry-cordial locks and pulls her back with insistent gentleness, leaving her tongue hanging in the cold air. 

“E-enough.” Manuela gasps- and it hits Shamir that they’re finished, that they were finished. From how ragged Manuela sounds as she commands her to cease, she decides she’s made a satisfactory effort. 

“Very well.”

Shamir rises from her kneeling position; grateful to be finished with her extended period of hunching over. Entirely clothed in winter layers, she’s aware that there’s little of her for Manuela to appreciate in the same fashion as she did. Shamir doubts that matters, though, until she finds Manuela surveying her expectantly from top to bottom. 

“Are you looking for anything from me?” Manuela asks it as if it’s meaningless, and Shamir sighs. 

“No. I have to be going.”

Manuela’s face falls, and Shamir finds herself fighting the slight upswell of guilt which comes from clearly disappointing her. 

_You never promised her that, though_ , Shamir reminds herself. 

“Another time?” Manuela purrs. 

_But you have plenty long to make new promises._

“...Maybe.” murmurs Shamir, already heading for the door.

**Author's Note:**

> @meowcosm on twt
> 
> kudos and comments are hugely appreciated!


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